


Maybe When You're Older

by HarmoniaChimera



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extremely Underage, First Time, Fully Informed Consent, M/M, Peter Parker Has a Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 07:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18889777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmoniaChimera/pseuds/HarmoniaChimera
Summary: After what happens at the Stark Expo, Peter grows to idolise Mr. Stark. He has no idea Mr. Stark wouldgrowto idolise him too. And sooner that he could ever think or wish for.





	Maybe When You're Older

**Author's Note:**

> **Additional Warning in Case the Tags Weren't Enough:** This is a fic in which Tony, fully aware, has consensual sex with a 7-year-old Peter, who has had a crush on his idol since that save at the Expo, but still gives informed consent, _proving_ that it is, in fact, informed. ~~This is a low-key commentary to my approach to the idea of age of consent.~~ If you're bothered about under-12 sex even if it's consensual, I'd advise to close the tab _now_.

Auntie was always good to him. She understood he learned things much faster than other children his age, and she would explain things no matter how difficult and buy him books on whatever topic he'd like. So it was no surprise that when he started asking about his body and other 'sexual' stuff, as Auntie described it, she already had a book prepared for him.

"It's what I learned from," she said as she gave it to him. "I was much older than you, but I'm sure you'll be fine."

And he was, for the most part. And if there were things he couldn't wrap his little head around, he would go and ask, and Auntie would always explain and explain and explain until he understood. And when he was done with the book (and exploring the pictures, and exploring his body according to the pictures), Auntie said she had one more thing to teach him, in a voice that meant it was a very important thing.

So when some time later Peter went to the Expo (after begging Auntie to take him about 7 million times) and then of course, the only time he was there, all the presented suits flew and started attacking people, and then Iron Man himself saved Peter from one of them and praised him, he wasn't really surprised when, later, in bed, thinking back to it, he found his little cock twitching a little in his pants. All he could think was, "Oh. So that's what it feels like."

And then of course touched himself. A lot. And he had touched himself before, like the pictures showed him to, but this time, for some reason, he would look at the toy mask he kept on his shelf, and it would feel a thousand times better, somehow.

Auntie had said it wouldn't hit him for years to come and he was only seven and a half, but then maybe it was just like his smarts? If he was smarter than normal, maybe he could also feel more than normal?

After that, there weren't enough pictures and videos of Mr. Stark for him to find. The first time he experienced what the book called 'ejaculation', he did when watching a speech Mr. Stark gave an one of the expos, immediately reminded of how majestic he looked in that suit, blowing the bad guys away to save Peter. All of that, just for Peter. And Peter... Well, it was just a few drops, but for some reason they looked really mesmerising, plastered across Mr. Stark's face on Auntie's phone.

It became... Well, until then Peter didn't really know what obsession was, but that's what it was. And obsession. Not a crazy, 'I'm going to follow you home' type; he may have been only a kid but he was a smart kid and he knew very well Mr. Stark had a lot of considerably better things to do than pay two thoughts to a random kid like a million others. But more than enough for Peter to be running to the balcony whenever he heard a swoosh outside the window, to be watching every single video of Mr. Stark he could find, to be writing his name when he was practicing his cursive. Sometimes, but only sometimes, he'd even write 'Peter Stark', unable to shake off that little fantasy of living on top of the tower and seeing Mr. Stark every day, coming back in that armor, and then welcoming him home with a kiss, and maybe... Maybe...

And that's when he'd usually wrap himself around a pillow and pretend to be the little spoon for Mr. Stark who would hold him and whisper sweet nothings in his ear until Peter would get all red to the roots of his hair, just imagining the words and the voice. He'd hump against the pillow, picturing Mr. Stark's hand gently cupping his little cock, just rubbing it against his palm. And if he was feeling really adventurous, he'd sometimes even slide his tiny finger in the back and pretend it was Mr. Stark as he bit down on the pillow to stifle his moans.

"Shh, shh, little one," he'd hear him say as he rubbed himself to completion, staining the pillow. He'd always make sure to turn the pillowcase around and wrap it into a ball before he put it in the wash so that Auntie wouldn't see what he had done... And if she asked why he kept looking up Mr. Stark, he'd just say he would love to intern for him one day so he needs to learn as much as he can, and Auntie would always laugh softly and say it was alright, even as Peter's heart was beating out of his chest, and his little cock throbbed between his thighs.

And still, it was all in his mind. Until it wasn't.

It was just a day like any other. He was doing some exercises in a big-boy book that Auntie got him, and Auntie was looking at recipes for dinner with the TV playing in the background when suddenly, the doorbell rang. And Peter didn't think twice of it because that sort of thing happened. People would come around, either Auntie's friends (and she'd ask him to go to his room), or the man from upstairs who would talk to Auntie about rent, or, very rarely, a doorbell meant a food delivery. But not this time. This time, Auntie went to open the door and there it was. "Hello, Miss Parker. I apologise for dropping by unannounced but I was in the area." Seemingly nothing, nothing that Peter would ordinarily get involved in, but that was it. That voice, whispering in his ear. Much less robotic than the last time he truly heard it, but unmistakably that voice.

Auntie May was silent, probably didn't know what to say, and Peter couldn't blame her. He hoisted himself off the ground as silently as he could, his breaths quietly hitching in his chest, and he circled the couch on his tippy toes, creeping up to the doorframe. He was so sure, but he still couldn't believe it. He had to see him. But if it wasn't him... Peter very gently put his fingers on the doorframe and inched closer until the very tips touched the opening, and then he finally, finally dared to look out.

"Umm... Might I ask why you'd come by in the first place?" Auntie cooed, very quietly. "Not that I have something against you being here, it's just that..." and she started rambling as she would.

Peter found a position where he could see Mr. Stark just below Auntie's arm and as soon as he saw him, he dropped to his knees and pressed his hot cheek against the cool wall, only now realising that he was practically crouching this entire time, just trying to be smaller and smaller. And the face he saw was smiling this wide, charming grin Peter so often saw in the videos.

"Absolutely, please, I should apologise for the intrusion. I only wanted to see how the boy is doing, after what happened to him at the Expo. I imagine he must've been pretty shaken up."

"Uhh, yes. Yes, he was." Auntie clearly hadn't the first clue what to say so she just played along, as Peter tried his best not to breathe in his hiding place. "Thank you, that's very nice of you. Uh, please, uhh, come in?"

"Thank you so much," Mr. Stark replied, stepping through the doorway. The sound of his polished shoe hitting their old carpet sounded like a thunderclap in Peter's ears. "Would you mind if I met-- well, saw him, I suppose? I did meet him already, in a way."

Auntie, however mesmerised herself, was quiet for a while before she finally answered, "No, of course not. He's just there in the living room. Let me make some tea."

"Thank you," Mr. Stark said, then the door closed and his steps sounded closer and closer. Peter stifled a squeak and dashed to the couch, pretending to be busying himself with the TV. When Mr. Stark came in he squeaked for real and jumped up, staring at him with wide-open eyes. He didn't even have to pretend. It was so sudden and so shocking to be able to see Mr. Stark, without a mask, right there, practically at arm's length, that Peter truly just froze in place.

"Hey, it's alright, kid," Mr. Stark said with a chuckle, patting the space beside him. Peter approached slowly and caught himself thinking that he shouldn't be so obedient in his own house, but it was too late by then.

"Umm, hello?" he offered shyly, wincing at how stupid it came out. He perched himself on the very edge of the couch, looking at Mr. Stark sideways, trying to feed his gaze without staring.

Mr. Stark laughed at his attempts, in a lenient, joyful way, and Peter could almost cry with how much he felt. He looked down, trying to get himself together, but when he felt a heavy, male hand on his shoulder, his heart skipped more than a beat and smashed itself against his chest.

"Hey, kid, it's really okay. You don't have to be shy. In fact..." Mr. Stark removed the hand from Peter's shoulder to reach into his suit jacket. "I have something for you."

Peter's breath hitched in his throat again and he just sat there, staring wide-eyed as Mr. Stark pulled out an Iron Man action figure and placed it in his hand. Peter didn't even have the time to utter 'th--' before another one appeared, and it took him an embarrassingly long time to figure out it was him, in fact, that little kid in a toy Iron Man mask and gauntlet, pointing it at an invisible enemy.

There was no stopping it then. Peter felt the torrent coming, so overcome by emotion that tears burst from his eyes and sobs tore from his throat. He collapsed completely, sputtering thank yous, so overwhelmed by his emotions that he couldn't even fully process it when Mr. Stark pulled him into his arms. Auntie rushed in when she heard him crying, and surely saw him in Mr. Stark's arms and calmed down, going back to the kitchen to fetch the tea. And Mr. Stark held him and held him, until Peter ran out of tears and could only sniffle and rub the figures, whispering more and more thank yous.

"Don't mention it, kid," Mr. Stark would say every time and wave his hand dismissively, though clearly proud of the effect it had. Even Auntie had a big smile on her face. They spent the rest of the evening drinking tea and talking, mostly about Peter. Auntie would coo about how smart he was and how interested he was in all the books, and Mr. Stark joked (or did he?) that he should hire him in his lab instead of letting him go to boring school. But Peter listened to it all only with one ear, too focused on sheepishly playing with the figurines and trying not to think about the wet patch that was spread across his thighs.

It happened a few more times. Mr. Stark would come by to visit, check on him, bring him a small gift or two. He was always perfect and nice and courteous. He asked to see their apartment. One time the man from upstairs came and Auntie had to shoo him away, and then after Mr. Stark left, they found an envelope with some banknotes in it, and it was Auntie who almost cried with panic and emotion this time. Peter didn't really understand why that 'rent' thing was so important, but it seemed to bring Auntie so much grief any other day than that one, that he didn't want to ask.

Mr. Stark was full of surprises. But the biggest one had to be when Auntie was working a late shift again and the doorbell rang. Mr. Stark had been so careful with when he would come over so far that Peter didn't even think that it could be him. So he went to open the door with every intention to tell the person on the other door to come back later when Auntie would be back, but when he saw it was Mr. Stark, he froze in front of the door. He knew he was supposed to say the same thing--Mr. Stark was still an adult and Peter wasn't supposed to let any adults in when he was alone, and there was no reason for Mr. Stark to have special treatment--except that he was special, and Peter found himself unable to move one way or another, or even utter a word for that matter. Mr. Stark smiled again, Peter's cheeks went a little hotter than normal, but still, he could only look up at that face she saw and loved so many times.

Mr. Stark's expectant smile finally dropped and he took a little breath. "Oh, I see. Your Aunt isn't home, is she?"

Peter politely shook his head. One should never let a question go unanswered.

"That's okay. I'll come by some other time. Don't worry about it."

"Umm..." Peter quickly opened the door wider. That's how Auntie always invited people in, right? "If you wanna come in... it's okay."

Mr. Stark stood there for a minute, just looking back at Peter as if pondering something. Did he know Peter wasn't supposed to be doing this? Was he going to get mad? The very thought of angering Mr. Stark and making him go away and never return froze blood in Peter's veins. But after a while that felt like eternity, Mr. Stark finally gave a little smile, and a little shrug, and then walked into the apartment again. Peter closed the door behind him, suddenly very aware of the fact that for the first time in forever, he was alone with Mr. Stark. Just the two of them in an enclosed space. He gulped, feeling the heat creep up his neck again.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. Peter vaguely remembered bringing drinks, talking about something, showing Mr. Stark his room, even though there really wasn't much to show. He _distinctly_ remembered Mr. Stark being as kind and perfect as he imagined. The rest of it was filled with fluttering heartbeats and a lot of _heat_.

And then before he knew it, before he could even think about stopping himself, Peter started rambling just like Auntie would, and somehow, at the end of it, he did it. He blurted it out.

"And I just, I love you so much, Mr. Stark, and I want to marry you and have your children."

Belatedly realising what he had said, Peter dug his gaze into the carpet and chewed on his lips. If the heat busting his head open was any indication, he was probably red all about his face again. There was no response for what seemed like a very long while, and Peter was way too scared to look up at Mr. Stark, so instead he panicked and just kept going, "I mean, not that I can, because I'm not..." Another realisation dawned on him. "I'm not a g-girl and ohgodI'msosorryMr.Stark, you probably-- I didn't mean to--" Tears were burning at his eyes again. Why would Mr. Stark want a little idiot kid like him if he could have models and wives and children of his own, and--

"Peter," Mr. Stark said in a very calm and steady voice. "Come and sit down."

The kindness in his words pushed Peter over the edge and he started whimpering, still trying his best to keep himself from sobbing even if the tears were coming whether he liked it or not. He went over slowly, half-blind, and let Mr. Stark pull him onto the seat next to him. "I'm so sorry," he said again, "I don't want to p-put pressure... or anything, I just-- You're just-- They just won't stop 'cause you're so good and I--" Peter sniffled, trying to wipe his face with his sleeve, but it just kept getting wetter and wetter.

Mr. Stark chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around him and rubbing his shoulder gently. "You're all right, kid," he said almost casually. "It's okay to have a crush on your idol."

Idol. The word hit Peter like a train. Idol was always described as something far away, that you could adore from afar. Not a person who was sitting right there next to him. Embracing him. "You're more than that," he blurted out again before he could think it through. "And I would give anything to be with you." He hung his head down again, hoping oh-so-very hard that his heart would stay where it was, even as more tears squeezed their way out onto his cheeks.

Mr. Stark took his time again, weighing his words before he finally said, very quietly, "I really wish you could, kid, but that's not something you can decide for yourself."

Peter looked up at him, blinking the tears away. "Why not?"

"There's this thing called informed consent," Mr. Stark said slowly. "And you're too young to be able to give it."

"Oh, Auntie told me!" Peter brightened up immediately. Finally, something he knew something about. "It's when you agree to something but you have to know exactly what you're agreeing to and how it can... uh... impact you and your life!" He smiled proudly. "I know all about it!"

"You know all about... what?" Mr. Stark asked, and Peter could swear he now sounded uncertain, and there seemed to be something like a reddish tint to his cheeks.

"Auntie gave me a book!" He was this close to going and getting it but he decided to stay next to Mr. Stark after all. "There was a lot about girls and how they can make babies but I don't think I'd want that. But there was also a lot about how boys can do it with each other and how it's important to be clean and how there are diseases so you should always use a c... c-condom? And then also how to put it on because you have to squeeze the bubble and everyone always forgets, and then you also have to make sure it's all wet and stuff because it's easy to get hurt, and then it usually still hurts until you get used to it, so it has to be prepared but then you can also just touch it in the front and then it's really good, and then there was a lot about, uh... edg... ejaculation? But I don't think that's important because it doesn't really do anything except show when someone feels good, right?"

Peter looked up at Mr. Stark, huffing from all the words and thinking that maybe he said a little too much because Mr. Stark was watching him with something like shock or maybe worry, or maybe something else? Peter flushed under that gaze and started picking his fingers, not sure what to do now. He couldn't take it back. Auntie had said that he shouldn't talk to people about it--not because it was wrong that he knew it all, but because most people wouldn't understand why he knew it. But Mr. Stark wasn't most people, right?

Mr. Stark finally pressed his lips together, rested his chin on his hand and looked at Peter with mild amusement. "And is that what you think marriage is?"

Peter shrugged, feeling suddenly much more embarrassed. "No, but... Auntie said it's kinda like that but for longer?"

Mr. Stark nodded and looked briefly away. "Well, she's not wrong," he said leniently. "But there's more to it than that. And even just that is much more complicated. How old are you? Seven?"

"...and a half," Peter grumbled and Mr. Stark couldn't hold his laughter anymore. He chuckled a little but when he settled down, his gaze had changed into something else again.

"Mm. So you see, that's illegal." He looked Peter straight in the eye. "Having... relations with small boys like you, that's something that lands people in jail. Do you really think it would be fair for me to take that risk?"

For him? Peter's heart stopped, his throat going dry. "No," he croaked, feeling his stomach sink. Was Mr. Stark really think that he could...? He gulped, remembering something Auntie had said to him. "Not unless you give consent."

Mr. Stark's gaze set on him heavily and stayed like that for the longest while. It was impossible to know what he was thinking, but Peter didn't dare to move, even if he writhed a little, uncertain of what was going to happen now. He shouldn't have said anything. He should've just stayed quiet. And then maybe Mr. Stark wouldn't realise that he's just a stupid little boy who didn't deserve even a minute of his attention.

But then there was a touch on his thigh all of a sudden and Mr. Stark was leaning in, very slowly, whispering, "I'll give it, then."

Did Peter really hear that? He didn't just imagine it, did he? Though if he really thought about it, this whole thing was like a dream, so why would he ever wake up? "Me too," he replied in a trembling voice.

And with that, their lips clashed, Mr. Stark's adult, full ones gently brushing against Peter's, the dark beard and moustache scratching softly at his baby face. The kiss was sweet and full of promise of more, and also enough to make Peter's little cock spring to attention and strain against the fabric of his pants with the anticipation. He wanted to reach up to him, so much, but he stopped his hands mid-air, too afraid that if he touched Mr. Stark, he'd turn to dust and fall away like the dream he most likely was. God. God, it was finally going to happen.

It ended way too quickly, though, Mr. Stark pulling back to give him another look as he slid off the bed. And just as Peter started thinking that maybe he had changed his mind and was going to walk out, Mr. Stark knelt on the ground in front of him, that very shift of position sending new waves of heat up Peter's cheeks. Mr. Stark threw him one of those little playful smiles of his as his hands made their way down Peter's thighs, closely watching his reactions; then he pulled down his pants and underwear, baring him with one smooth move. Peter stifled a whimper and then another squeak when Mr. Stark pulled his knees open. He had only the slightest notion of what was going to happen, only a weak recollection of a picture from the book, but no amount of reading could have prepared him for it anyway.

Mr. Stark slithered into the small space between his legs, gaze falling from Peter's eyes and slowly making its way down his body, stopping for a long time on his little rock-hard cock before Mr. Stark finally inched forward and gave it a lick. Peter's back arched so abruptly Mr. Stark had to move away so as to not get hit by his bucking hips. He looked up at Peter with something like playful reproach before trying again, and Peter did his best to keep his butt steadily planted on the bed they had been on until just a second ago. It was still the most overwhelming sensation he'd ever felt, more intense even than the time when he managed to slip a candle inside himself. Mr. Stark's tongue danced around his shaft and then wrapped itself around it as he let Peter's cock fall inside, into his mouth; he suckled gently, and if Peter thought the licking was intense, this completely blew his mind.

By the time Mr. Stark started bobbing his head up and down Peter's little cock, Peter was already completely breathless from all the moans that escapes his throat with every lick, and looking down at Mr. Stark with buttery eyes. He couldn't believe it. Mr. Stark was sucking his little 7-year-old cock. This had to be a dream. He was so enraptured he didn't even notice when Mr. Stark spread his legs wider and pulled him in a little closer, his tongue slipping down Peter's cock and to his hole, eliciting a gasp and a wide-eyes stare of horror and shocking pleasure. And when it slipped in... Peter was almost ready to lose his mind. He couldn't resist Mr. Stark even if he wanted; but needless to say, he didn't want to at all.

"Mr. Stark..." he groaned, perfectly aware of what he was being prepared for. His heart was beating out of his chest. He wanted it, God, he wanted Mr. Stark so much, but he knew it was bound to hurt, and he was just as afraid as excited. Mr. Stark hoisted himself off the floor and ground his hips in between Peter's open legs, spreading the spit and whatever that clear liquid that kept seeping out of Peter's cock was called, all over his suit trousers. And yet the friction felt delightful, like he was putting pressure in all the right places, and the bulge in his pants was hot to the touch as it bumped against Peter's own cock.

And that was it. There was no way he could have stopped himself, not with how intense it felt, like a build-up on everything else they did. He tensed and whined, eyes fluttering closed even though he tried to keep them square on Mr. Stark, his mind went completely blank, and before he knew it, the hot and sticky stuff he’d come to know so well since his first meeting with Mr. Stark was dripping on his skin.

"Did that feel good?" Mr. Stark asked with something like a proud smirk playing on his lips. Peter nodded immediately, looking down at where the few white drops of his own cum where spread on his belly. Wow. "Do you want to stop?"

Peter quickly shook his head, eyes caught up on the bulge, still moving right next to his own cock. The size difference was... scary, was the word. The bulge was bigger than anything Peter's seen, even in the book, and much, much bigger than his fingers, or the candle. Would it even fit?

"Peter." Mr. Stark tipped his chin up, tearing his gaze away from it and stopping so that Peter could focus on him instead. "Do you want to stop?"

"No, sir." Peter shook his head again, this time more firmly, in case that was the problem.

Mr. Stark's gaze turned softer. "We don't have to keep going. You can change your mind at any point."

"I know I can," Peter nodded. "And I'm scared, but I really wanna try. I wanna make you feel good, too." He sniffled from all the tears from earlier. "And I know there are other ways I could do it, but..." He looked down, flustered. "I want you to be my first time, sir. Please."

Mr. Stark ground even more into him as he leaned down to give him another kiss, but a real one this time, an adult one; and when Peter felt his tongue slip in, it felt so strange, but somehow made his little cock jump up, as if to point at the person he loved. They kissed for what seemed like forever as Mr. Stark kept coming back for more and Peter eagerly gave him everything, exploring the sensations. Mr. Stark was shifting a little the entire time, until Peter could feel him moving in a way that could only mean he was touching himself, and for some reason it made Peter even hotter.

"You can always tell me to stop, Peter," Mr. Stark said as he pulled away, meeting his gaze to make sure he understood. "And if you do, I promise I will."

Peter swallowed something that got caught up in his throat and nodded. Mr. Stark, as if prompted, started probing at his hole then, slowly working a finger in, even as his other hand was steadily sliding up and down his own cock. Peter's eyes widened at that, so similar yet different from how it felt when he did it himself but definitely not painful. Mr. Stark smiled almost like he knew, but still asked, "You okay?" and Peter nodded quickly.

So Mr. Stark kept going, until he eventually slipped a second finger in, and then even a third, and it was already much more than Peter ever thought he'd ever be able to handle, but if he looked down, he could Mr. Stark's cock slipping back and forth in his fist and he knew he still had a long way to go. He reached up, hands closing around Mr. Stark's shirt and pulling him closer for another kiss, deep and hungry; all while his hips kept bucking, impaling his little hole on the fingers that gently explored him inside and opened him wider.

"Does it hurt?" Mr. Stark gasped, pressing his forehead against Peter's, huffing little breaths through his teeth as he jerked off.

Peter shook his head. "No," he whispered. "And... I want more, sir."

"You're such a brave boy," Mr. Stark said softly, kissing him again before he suddenly pulled away. Fingers still inside, he used his other hand to get a packet out of his wallet, letting the rest of it fall to the floor, as he fumbled with the condom. Peter groaned as he sat up, forcing Mr. Stark’s fingers inside, and by the time Mr. Stark managed to put the squeezed condom against his cock and was starting to miss a hand, Peter was there to lend him one, rolling it down on his cock. Mr. Stark grinned and gave him another kiss of gratitude before he started rubbing his cock against Peter's hole even as his fingers were still inside. "I don't want to hurt you."

"It's going to hurt anyway," Peter replied. He wasn't sure how reassuring that was, but that's what the book said. It would hurt even if he did it in twenty years, or with someone else, or, or, or.

It seemed, however, that Mr. Stark didn't need any reassurance at all, at least not about that. "And are you okay with that?" he asked again, and Peter had to take a deeper breath before he could answer.

"Yes, sir." He looked up at him, trying to meet Mr. Stark's gaze. "This is what I want. I want it to be you, even if it hurts."

Mr. Stark didn't reply to that and only kissed Peter deeply again before pulling his fingers out and immediately replacing them with the tip of his cock. Peter's own twitched at the stimulation, another bead of the clear fluid oozing from the hole as Mr. Stark's hand thumped hard right next to Peter's head on the bed. He pulled away from Peter’s moaning mouth to look at him as he started pushing in. His cock felt like it was tearing Peter open; the pain shot right through him and he arched his back in a misguided attempt to escape, a sharp shriek escaping his throat.

“Peter?” Mr. Stark huffed out, concern clear in his voice.

“I’m okay,” Peter groaned, fingers tightly clenched on Mr. Stark’s forearms. He didn’t seem to even notice. “I can take it.”

Mr. Stark nodded slightly and kept pushing, moving in and out in short strokes. It didn’t feel much different than his fingers except for how big it was, making Peter’s tummy bulge as Mr. Stark grunted in pleasure. He ran his hand over his expanding belly, shocked to see that there was so little inside him that he could _see_ Mr. Stark invading his gut… and how far up he was getting. Peter raised his wide eyes up at him, and it earned him a wide smile from Mr. Stark.  
“You okay in there, kid?” he asked, his hand wrapping softly around Peter’s semi-hard cock, sending jolts up his spine. Peter gasped in surprise at how different it felt from what he was used to. Peter moaned and bucked his hips, arching his back. The change in angle made Mr. Stark’s cock hit somewhere else, the bulge getting a little bigger, and Peter’s fingers clenching even harder at the new sensation. What was that?? Mr. Stark smiled a little wider at his reaction. “Does it still hurt?”

Peter shook his head, trying to move on his own, even though his hips were held so high in the air he had no support for his feet. It _did_ still hurt, the way he was so open, but with all the other things Mr. Stark was making him feel, the pain was the last thing he could think of. And when the cock inside him started moving in earnest, a little faster with every thrust, moaning his name was the only thing he could do.

Mr. Stark checked in from time to time, but started losing his composure quite quickly, letting his head down and closing his eyes. Groans built in his throat as he kept thrusting, harder and harder, and Peter’s own eyes rolled back in his skull. He couldn’t keep his cries back, screaming out his pleasure for all the neighbors to hear if they wanted as Mr. Stark’s hand skillfully stroked his cock and jolts ran up and down his body.

“Mr. Stark! Please!” His nails were digging into Mr. Stark’s shoulders as he was overcome again, the thoughts fleeting from his mind as his cock emptied a few more drops to add to the previous ones. Mr. Stark grinned at the sight, his gaze meeting Peter’s just before his face dropped and he clenched his teeth, groaning hard. Peter was suddenly so full he didn’t know what to do with himself. He could feel Mr. Stark’s cock throbbing and pulsing inside, and somehow he knew what was happening, though the expression on Mr. Stark’s face wasn’t something he had ever seen before. He stared up at him, mesmerised, until Mr. Stark finally huffed, giving him just a few more weaker thrusts and finally focused his gaze on Peter.

“How was that? You okay?” he asked half-teasingly, slowly pulling out. Eerily, Peter could feel more than just Mr. Stark’s cock sliding out as if by force, as if it really wanted to stay back in, and he shuddered.  
“I’m fine, sir,” he said slowly, sitting up on his sore backside as Mr. Stark perched himself on the side of the bed and took of the condom, tying it. Peter looked at how heavy the rubber was with Mr. Stark’s seed and couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like inside of him.

“Did you like it?” Mr. Stark wrapped the condom back in it’s packaging and placed it gently on Peter’s nightstand. Peter followed his hand like enchanted.

“I… I’m not sure.” He sighed softly. “I liked it when you touched me but… the rest of it, the… When you were… inside, it felt really strange.”

Mr. Stark nodded knowingly. “Unfortunately, that’s just how it is. You don’t know that you like it until you do it at least a few times.”

Peter blinked up at him. “How do you know?”

“I was, sometimes, on the receiving end of it.” Mr. Stark chuckled. “Is that so surprising?”

“Yes?” Peter wasn’t sure how surprised he was supposed to be exactly, but he was truly shocked. He could never imagine Mr. Stark in his position from just now. Or the roles being reversed. Or anything like that at all. He closed his mouth and looked away. “Umm… Did _you_ like it?” he asked softly, barely more than a whisper, but Mr. Stark heard him somehow anyway.

“I liked it a lot,” Mr. Stark said with a smile. “Needless to say, I’ve never done it with someone quite as young as you.” He didn’t seem to be very bothered by it, not with his words anyway, but Peter could _see_ the pulse on his neck. “It’s… an experience, that’s for sure.”

“Are you scared?” Peter asked innocently, not certain how to phrase it differently. He didn’t want to make Mr. Stark feel like a coward, but he had to know. “Of what’s going to happen now?”

Mr. Stark looked over at him with a piercing gaze that made Peter hot and squirmy all over again. “Are you going to tell anyone?”

Peter bit his lip, thinking. Auntie came to mind, but he didn’t have to be an adult to know that wouldn’t end well. “No, sir.”

“Me neither. So, yeah, maybe just a little now.”

Peter very gently, with hesitation, inched closer and put his cheek on Mr. Stark’s shoulder. Mr. Stark let out something like a scoff and pulled him onto his lap, enclosing him in his embrace. Peter hid his red face in Mr. Stark’s neck, feeling his heart thumping just as hard and fast as his own. “Are we going to do it again some day?”

“Would you like to?”

“I… I think so. You said it would feel good eventually, right?”

“I said you’d like it after a few times. I like to think it would feel good every time.”

Peter murmured in contemplation. “If that’s the case, I’d definitely like to try again.”

Mr. Stark stifled a chuckle as he teased, “Maybe when you’re older.”

 

 

* * *

 **THE AFTERWORD**   ~~(the fic itself is 6k words if that matters to anybody)~~

 **PLEASE READ BEFORE YOU COMMENT**  
(unless you just want to talk about the style, structure etc. of the fic)

First of all, thank you for reading and if you've enjoyed it, yay!! \o/  
Second, I'd like to apologise to anyone who thinks this reflects my personal opinions (and to those commenters with whom I ended up discussing my personal opinions, that was my mistake). Of course, I have them, but they are irrelevant to the purpose of this fic.

**In fact, the purpose of this fic was to _inspire reflection_ about the following points:**

  
1) Purity culture perpetuates rape culture. The first few paragraphs make it clear that May had no quarrel with teaching everything she knew to Peter, which is something many parents don't even _consider_ , because of--drum roll--purity culture. However:  
a) WHO recommends teaching sex ed to children as early as primary school, which starts at 5-7 years of age, and  
b) it is the undeniable truth that if you don't teach your child about sex and consent, they will be more susceptible to grooming; if you don't teach your daughter about sex and consent, she will be more susceptible to being raped in the future; and if you don't teach your son about sex and consent, he will be more susceptible to becoming a rapist in the future;  
c) additionally, if you don't teach your own child when they're asking, the child will find out anyway--from the Internet, from their peers, or worse, from the creeps trying to groom them--therefore the only way to ensure that your child is getting the _right_ information is to give it to them yourself.  
Any parent and any person having opinions on the matter _has_  to be aware of the above before making a decision to keep their children away from this information.

 

2) What does the 'age of consent' even mean? The answer is two-fold: from the legal standpoint, it is obviously the age below which any kind of sexual intercourse is prosecuted as statutory rape. But what it means _practically_ , is that anyone below that age is _incapable_ of giving informed consent, that they not only can't _understand_ the idea of consent and all that it entails, but also can't make decisions about their own bodies. Therefore, anyone having sex with them is raping them 'by default', because they can't consent. It's not enough to just know the first bit. One has to understand the correlations as well.

 

3) The law is not a good base for discussions about morality.

**The law changes _dramatically_ from place to place.**

\- In some US states the age of consent is 18, no wiggle room. That means that anyone below the age of 18 can't understand the info and can't decide about themselves (but they can drive a car and get a job!), and then somehow, on the day that they reach the magical age of 18, they know everything and can make all the decisions.

\- In other places (most of them, to my knowledge), the age of consent is 16, as long as the partner is only a few years older, and then 18 for anyone. Which is good, because it protects from grooming (the groomers are usually much older than they're victims), and gives 2 years for the kid to figure out what they want sexually, not to mention allows for safe high-school relationships.

\- In my motherland, Poland, up to just recently, the age of consent was undeniably 15, and now it's 16. At that age, you can do whatever you want with your body and your life as long as it doesn't impact anyone else. You can get a tattoo or a job, and you can have sex, but you can't drive or take out a mortgage, for example.

\- However, there's a story to be told about a Romani girl who lived in Poland and lost her husband to this law. In the Romani culture, girls get married at 13-14 years of age, fully consenting, choosing their own husbands. They get married, they consummate the marriage, they have children. This particular girl did as well. She had one child when she was 14, and then another when she was 16. At that point, the attorney general did the math and realised that the first child was conceived before she was 15, and prosecuted her husband for statutory rape. No one cared that it was consensual or that that was their culture. And a happy family was destroyed because of a _year_ below the age of consent which was clearly used as a tool for oppression of the cultural minority. 

\- And on the flip side, quick Wiki search reveals there are still countries in the world where _child marriage_ is legal, even though it's below 12 years of age, and most of the time the girls aren't even consulted. And it's legal.

 

**The law changes even more dramatically throughout history.**

\- Not even 150 years ago, girls were still being shipped off to be married by their fathers without being consulted, to men usually much older than themselves, only for political or economical reasons. (see: Ellen Terry) In fact, all throughout the 19th century, any girl over the age of 12 was fair game.

\- Ancient times? The girl would be _expected_ to be married at her father's _order_ before the age of 15. After that, she was an old maid and much less attractive. Boys, however, would not get married before 16-18 because they were expected to go fight in wars first (!), but there was nothing stopping them from being subject of paederasty as early as 10-12, and in most cases, it was considered an honour to have the attention of an older man of good standing.

\- Let's not forget slavery! Up until it was abolished, it was perfectly legal to rape a slave of any age and gender! I mean, it was frowned upon by the society, but it _was_ legal.

And if that's not enough to agree that the law is more quicksand than a foundation for any right-or-wrong discussion, **the law can change dramatically over time** as well. We all had different laws 50, 20, and 10 years ago. Some laws were different even 1 year ago. Current government in Poland, for example, likes to adjourn and introduce new laws literally overnight, without any opposition. The American government if 5 seconds from doing the same if not already there. Therefore, hypothetically, paedophilia could be legal tomorrow. Does that mean, that it's wrong today but would be right tomorrow? Needless to say, 20 years from now, laws could be even more drastically different.

And all that doesn't even include the _enforcement_ of the law, which is a completely different matter on top. The point is, the law is hardly a stable, uniform basis for any kind of discussion about right and wrong, and has to be considered separately. Like a side dish. Something may be wrong and still be legal (child marriage!), or vice versa. Additionally, something is legal or isn't, for a given time and place. No grey areas. Sure, the law is mostly a pretty good average for keeping order but it is hardly a matter to be discussed.

 

4) Morality is subjective and fluid.

Most of the time, when we consider right and wrong, we mean the morality. (Because, you know, what even _is_ 'wrong'?) If morality was an objective concept, everyone, everywhere would have the same approach: this is wrong, this is right. It would be stable over time, and it would not change from place to place. It would be uniform all over the world and throughout history.

Needless to say, it _isn't_. Therefore, it's subjective. Everyone has their own moral compass, their own beliefs on what's right and what's wrong, shaped by their own upbringing (*slight nod towards purity culture*) and their own background, and their own life experiences. Which also means, that it's something that will change for each person over time. You may think something's okay, then boom! something happens, you get hurt, suddenly it's going to be morally wrong. Morality is personal, subjective, and fluid.

 **If there is one moral rule that we can all agree upon**, I venture it's about injury. **If someone gets hurt** , be it physically, mentally, financially, or metaphysically (as long as they didn't _want_ to get hurt in the first place, because hello, BDSM), then it's **wrong**. People getting hurt is wrong. I think that's something everyone can agree with. And _this_ can then be the basis for _objective_ moral discussions. Otherwise, it's all personal beliefs and moral compasses.

 

I _implore_ that you have a good, long think about these points before writing a comment, especially one about right and wrong. **In the story,** Peter _objectively_ didn't get hurt. Was it illegal? Yes, I mentioned that twice, and both the characters were fully aware of it. At no point did I say that it was or should have been legal. The legality of it is a different matter. What truly matters is that May defied purity culture and that Peter knew what he was doing and _didn't get hurt_.

 **Outside of fiction,** we are all required to live according to the law and that's obviously what we should do for our own personal safety and benefit. If you'd still like to comment, you are welcome to share how your personal morality feels about this, but please take into consideration that other people will have their own moral compasses and beliefs. And truly, as long as no one gets hurt, why wouldn't that be okay? However, if you feel strongly that I'm wrong on any of the above points, of course, feel free to comment as well. I  _encourage_ the discussion about sexual topics because that's the first step to getting rid of it. But if all you want to do is attack me for writing this in a first place, be advised I will likely delete your comment.

**Author's Note:**

> **Please see the notes at the end of the story before you comment.**


End file.
